Summer of '69
by harryfan24
Summary: No more school, no more glee, no more fun? Well, that's the truth for Rachel Berry who finds herself with nothing to do for two whole months. Noah Puckerman, on the other hand, is completely looking forward to a long stretch of doing absolutely nothing.
1. Chapter 1

**Well hello people of the fanfiction community, person with the obnoxious username here! (****...World.****) I've been meaning to actually write something for a while now (no, those drabbles I have yet to post do not count...) and my dear friend (epicinsanity101), of re-invent secondary characters in Twilight and receive numerous awards/nominations fame, has decided to co-write with me! GAH. I'm incredibly honored to be writing with the likes of her. We are basically going to churn out a Summer fic. (Hence the title...Bryan Adams is amazing.) Each chapter is going to have two parts, hers and mine. I am writing from the point of view of one Noah Puckerman, and she is dabbling into the mind of Rachel Berry. We hope to update pretty frequently seeing as we have motivation in the forms of one another. (And she'll probably smack me if I don't write...) Please feel free to point out any mistakes/errors we make; we are only human after all. ;) Sorry for such a freakishly long author's note, I promise these long things will be far and few between.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly we do not own Glee...or Bryan Adams. **

Noah (Puck) POV

"Goooooooooo morning Lim-" I slam the snooze button before the damn announcer can even make it past the second syllable of this god-for-saken town's name. I punch my pillow and then move my head around to get a quick glance at the time, 6:30. First period doesn't even start until 7:30 so I have way more than enough time. Besides, its the last fucking day of school who cares if you pull up thirty minutes....or four hours late? I already took all the damn tests. I pull the matching black covers up closer to my head and close my eyes.

"Noah Puckerman!" My mother's voice resonates from where she is probably in the kitchen trying to get our ten year old coffee maker to actually work for once. The darn thing lets grains into your coffee, that shit just ain't kosher. "You get yourself up right now young man!"

I just groan and roll over, shoving my left arm underneath my pillow while my right pulls the black covers completely over my head. I'm about two seconds away from re-joining dream land when my door bangs open.

"Nooooooahhhhhhh!" My little sister's screeching voice breaks through my subconscious. "Mom says you have to get up this minute or she...she'll..." She obviously forgot the threat our mother had instructed her to say so I simply decide to end her stuttering misery.

I pick my head up off the pillow, as if it required great effort, and turn to face the seven year old. "Okay twerp, you can tell mom to _fuck off_." I then close my eyes and un-ceremoniously flop back down onto the pillow.

"Mom! Noah said a swear!" My sister left the door open as she ran downstairs to tattle on me. Whatever. It's not like it's the first time I swore in front of her.

"Hope you all enjoyed that classic-" I slam the snooze button again and groan in frustration. I can seriously never catch a break. But whatever, this is the last damn time I have to wake up this early for a whole two months. Fuck Yes. I throw the blankets from my head and turn the alarm toggle switch to off.

I head over to my dresser, open the top drawer, and pull out a pair of boxers along with an already matched pair of socks (yeah I fold my socks. Whatever.). I slam the drawer shut again.

My mother sighs from where she is now standing in my doorway. "Noah, you are going to be late."

"Uh, Ma, school doesn't start for like an hour." I turn to face her and try to move to get into the bathroom, but she blocks my way.

"Noah, you have to pick her up at 7." She is shaking her head.

What the hell? "Pick up who?"

Now the look on my mother's face borders on annoyance. "That sweet Rachel girl."

Uhhh, _what_? "Rachel? As in Berry comma Rachel?" No way in hell would I agree to give crazy a ride, well no way voluntarily.

The look she gives me at the moment could only be described as pure annoyance. "_Yes _Noah, Rachel as in Berry." She walks towards me with a steely expression in her eyes. "You agreed to drive her last Saturday at temple."

Oh shit. I knew going to temple hungover was going to come and bite me in the ass. Finn and I were just staring to be friends again and I really didn't want to blow him off, so we both had our own little party; the whole baby drama stuff had really messed us up for a while. But when did I?...Aw crap. I think I knew exactly what she was talking about. Mr. and...Mr. Berry had come up to my mother and were chatting, like usual, when then they turned to me and asked if _something_ was all right. I being hungover, and half asleep, simply nodded my head to their un-heard question. Well there we go. Fuck.

"Whatever ma." I sigh.

"Noah Puckerman you will be nice to her!" Her voice starts to increase in volume as she eyes me wearily. "The poor dear's car is at the garage and she has never been on a bus before, so you _will_ be on time to get her."

"Come on woman!" She grits her teeth at me. "_Mom_, why the hell do I have to get her at 7? That's like freakishly early."

"Well maybe she appreciates punctuality." She turns to leave my room. "Unlike some people."

I just groan as I turn to check the clock. 6:50. Whatever. It's not like I have to be there at exactly-

"Noah! You will be on time or so help me." My mother's threat came wafting up from the kitchen where she is once again probably heading over to wrangle with the defunct coffee maker. She can actually be pretty scary though, so yeah...

"I'm going, Ma!" I wrestle a pair of jeans out of my closet and grab the first t-shirt I find. It's a plain black one, but whatever. I can rock it.

I pull on the outfit insanely fast and head towards the bathroom. The door is shut and locked. Damn sister.

"Open the door!" I pound on the wooden frame and push my head against it in my dire need; dude has gotta pee.

"Nooooo! I'm in here." My little sister's voice comes from behind the closed portal (into my sanctuary!)

"Noah! You only have five minutes to drive all the way over to Russell!" My mother's voice sounds a bit harassed probably due to the fact that our coffee maker is always going to be a piece of shit no matter how hard she tries to fix it, I think we should just get a new one, but whatever. Ma got it as a gift from her dad and apparently he will roll over in his grave if she throws away the effing thing. Whatever.

I really don't want to risk the wrath of my mother any longer so I pound the bathroom door in one last vain attempt and scowl in defeat when the door remains firmly in place. I turn and jog down the stairs and grab my keys from the end-table next to the door. I can just pee at school.

I grab my chucks and try to put them, already tied, on my feet. I sit down on the couch so I can have more leverage in order to yank them on.

"Noah, un-tie your shoes. You are not some hobo, are you?"

Uh, what? First she yells for me to be on time and now she actually wants me to waste time by worrying over the laces? Bitch is nuts. Plus, what the hell do hobos have to do with anything?

"Please promise me you will be nice to her. She is such a sweet girl and, plus, she is _Jewish_!" I roll my eyes as my mother gets carried away on one of her many 'Rachel is amazing' tangents. I swear, when she said Jewish she looked like she was going to faint from sheer happiness.

"From what I hear, she is a straight 'A' student and-"

I definitely wasn't going to listen to her whole speech, besides I was going to be late; wasn't I? I slam the front door shut while yelling a gruff "Bye!" behind me. A quick glance at my watch shows the time as 6:58. Whatever. There was no way I could possibly be there at exactly 7 now. But who cares? I'm a badass, and badasses are never on time.

Rachel POV

_Where is he?_

I've been standing on the front porch for a half an hour waiting for that degenerate to pick me up. His mother told him the correct time, didn't she? Only someone with a complete lack of etiquette would choose to be late. Oh who am I kidding? Noah Puckerman wouldn't know etiquette if it hit him over the head with a golf club.

My fathers were worried about me taking the bus to school so they asked Ms. Puckerman if Noah would pick me up. I wanted to say something… tell them that I wasn't a little girl anymore. I could handle riding on a bus. I'm the head liner for New Directions. I am invincible.

Although with school ending soon I'll just be going back to Rachel Berry: Nobody.

I wonder if Mr. Shue would permit me to hold rehearsals over the summer break?

I'm contemplating my options when a rusted old Mustang pulls into the driveway. Noah's behind the wheel honking angrily.

"Get in," he says.

I roll my eyes as I slide into the passenger seat. "Gentlemanly."

Noah eyes me lividly. "Backseat, Berry. I don't want your crazy all over the front seat."

I remain seated, straightening out the creases in my skirt. If he's going to behave like that then I'm just going to go ahead and pretend he's not here. I've had a lot of practice.

"You can't be normal anywhere, can you," he mutters before pealing out of the driveway (quite fast I might add…But I wasn't about to lecture him on the speed limit).

"I am the epitome of normalness," I say trying not to sound bitter. It comes out like that anyway.

"Listen." Noah's hands are gripping the steering wheel. I'm surprised that he doesn't break it in two. "You're gonna keep your mouth shut for the rest of the ride. If we run into anyone I know you duck, understand?"  
Absurd. Absolutely ridiculous. I tune out Noah's melodramatics and stare out the window.

"I'm just doing this as a favor to my mom," he keeps saying. I find the entire situation ironic. "After what went down between us I really don't think we should be spending "quality" time with each other."

I press my forehead against the window. Believe me, Noah, I needed a whole batch of brain bleach to forget about our little sordid affair. I flush at the very thought.

_Pull yourself together, Berry. _

_Sorry._

_Your very well should be. _

"The hell are you doing, Berry?"

I realize I am smacking my head on the window and quickly regain composure. The school is just ahead. Thank you thank you thank _you_.

Noah parks and I hop out of the car before he can threaten me about not telling anyone about his "charity work". At least I'm a decent investment.

_Unlike Quinn_.

_I really need to stop talking to myself._

_Face your inner demons, Berry._

_Please shut up. I can't concentrate on making an entrance._

**AN: Alright. What do you think? Complete bust? Feel free to tell us! Also, in case you noticed I didn't name the members of Noah's family...I am actually scared of doing that. We talked about it and we're thinking of going with Evelyn for Noah's mother and Sophia for his little sister. What do you guys think? Once again, thanks for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you all so much for such a great response to our little story! I cannot believe how many hits we got! Also, thanks for the feedback on the names...we aren't really sure what we are going to do yet. A super huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, you all put a smile on my face.**

**From epicinsanity101: Hey guys! I'm so happy you all liked our little fanfiction. This is actually my first time writing for Glee. My version of Rachel is how I perceive her on the show. Yeah... she swears a bit ^__^ I also like writing Santana and Brittany so expect more of them in the future.**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Glee...at all. **

Puck POV

Coming to school today has been completely pointless. First Berry was nuts, then my math teacher, and now Mr. Schue has decided to hop on board the insane express. Actually, my math teacher was just plain cruel which is completely different than crazy. Mrs. Kremler wouldn't let me go on my daily trip to the nurse being on account of the fact that she thought I should attend at least one class this year; but whatever. Mr. Schue still takes the cake.

"Alright guys just answer the questions as best as you can, en Español por favor." Mr. Schuester is smiling as he hands out the tests. Yeah, a test on the last day of school. What the hell?

Julia was reaching over to hand me the paper which gave me a very nice shot of her rack, which I would rate a solid 7. Not as bad as Berry's 4 but no where near Quinn's 10, right before she gave birth to our 'bastard spawn' as she likes to affectionately refer to our daughter, who is now living with some first class fuck-tards. Well, not really. Quinn spent hours scouring over adoption applications in an effort to find the perfect family. I kind of tunned her out during that whole process on account of her being a grade-A bitch. We're good now though. Well, as good as two people who had to go through something like that together, could be. I begin to drift off a bit thinking about what my kid looks like now. She's gotta be a couple months old, I start trying to picture what my sister looked like when she was that young.

Mr. Schue breaks me out of reverie. "Puck, could I speak to you in the hallway for a minute?"

Shit. What could I have possibly done? I haven't thrown a slushie on someone in forever...not since that whole thing with Berry. I did throw Jew-fro in the dumpster the other day, but no one saw that. Plus, the stalker freak completely deserved it; I head him mention something about putting a camera in Berry's bedroom. That shit is just not right, no matter how insane the chick may be.

I push my chair out leisurely and stroll out into the hallway avoiding the curious stares of my classmates. Number one rule of being a badass, never let them see ya sweat. I so got it down.

Schue is smiling his creepy smile at me. "Puck, I was approached by a glee clubber this morning who wants us to make an effort to meet this summer in order to stay in practice." He inclines his head towards me. "I'm asking everyone what they think of the idea."

Meet during the summer? My free time to do absolutely nothing? Fuck no! "Uhh...I mean...I don't really see a need?" In all honesty that was true too. We already were done with competing and stuff. (Second place at regionals by the way. Fuck yeah!)

Mr. Schue is nodding his head as he speaks. "I understand Puck. It seems like everyone just wants to take the first month easy and relax. Maybe we could re-approach the idea more towards August." He pats my shoulder in finality. "You can go finish up your test now."

"Whatever." I mutter as I slug back into the classroom over to my seat. I bet you anything the glee clubber who approached him was Berry; she is all kinds of crazy.

"Alright guys you have five more minutes." Mr. Schue looks over the class from where he is once again sitting at his desk.

Five minutes? When did that happen? I glance over to the clock and see that no, he is not lying. Mother eff.

First question, What did you learn this year in class? Uhh...we learned Spanish. Wow, that's stupid. I quickly jot down ES-PAN-OL.

Second question, What was your favorite part of this year? Yeah, this is a class so I had no favorite part. Whatever. I'm just gonna write Spanish again. Favorite part of Spanish class was the Spanish, it totally makes sense.

I continue reading down the sheet and notice the questions are now all in Spanish. Aw, and we were doing so well.

"Guys you have about a minute." Mr. Schuester is now standing before the front row of desks.

Yeah, I totally don't have enough time to even think about answering any of the other questions. I'm just gonna do what Brittany does. Sombreros it is.

The bell rings just as I am finishing up my last hastily drawn hat. I hand the paper to Mr. Shue as I ignore his cheery, "Have a great Summer!" and continue walking out the door. How can I have a great Summer when it is only sixth period? The only good thing about now is the fact that the 'ole Puckerone gets to feed his face, again. I had study hall fourth period so I just went and grabbed a slice from the cafeteria due to me not eating breakfast, picking up Berry really put a cramp in my schedule. But damn, I really worked up an appetite while coming up with those stellar answers for that test.

"Noah!" Aw shit, Berry. "Noah Puckerman! I know you can hear me!" Her voice resonates from the other end of the hallway while I speed up trying to avoid having to actually speak with her.

"Noah! Please stop!" She is now running to catch up with me and I figure I should actually be a good person for once, so I turn around.

Rachel POV

"Hey, Rachel… what's the answer to number four?"

Santana's voice is buzzing in my ear like an annoying wasp. I'm deathly allergic to wasps.

"It's your own opinion," I hiss. "Can you please let me take my quiz in peace? I need to be in the right state of mind."

Santana rolls her dark eyes and goes back to chewing her pencil cap in thought. Beside her, Brittany is cheerfully doodling her and Santana beating a piñata that resembled me (big nose included). Mr. Shue must have seated them behind me to spite me. Giving me all the leads in glee club made him feel guilty so he put me near the jezebels.

I try to concentrate on my quiz but now Brittany is poking me in the back with her pen.

"What?"

"Do you want a Starburst?" she asks, holding out a pack a candy.

"Shhh!"

"Eyes on your own paper," Mr. Shue says from his desk.

I glare at him, but he just grins in reply.

What I wouldn't give to…

Berry! Please! Who's the one who gives you all the glory in glee? Kicking Mr. Shuester in the pants won't guarantee you stardom.

Yes. I can't let my anger get the best of me. It's alright to diva out every once in a while, but not when it compromises your future.

I finish my quiz just as class lets out. Santana groans.

"Christ," she says. "Should've taken French."

"Bonjour!" Brittany chirps.

I'm about to leave when Santana calls my name. Against my better judgment I stop and let her saunter over to me. She sways her hips back and forth to attract the attention of the boys behind her. They're definitely looking.

"Alright, Berry," Santana says. She snaps her fingers and Brittany pulls out a heart shaped notepad from her purse. She hands it to Santana like a personal secretary. "I want you to relay a message to that idiot."

"By idiot I assume you mean Noah," I say.

"Who's that?" Brittany and Santana ask in unison.

Ugh!

I make my voice go up an octave an say, "You mean, like, Puck, right?"

"Dumbass," Santana laughs. "Duh! Who the hell is Noah?"

"Remember, Tana?" Brittany says, chomping on another Starburst. "Noah had that big ark, or whatever, and he took all those animals except the unicorn and that's why it's extinct. I think it was in the Bible or something. Those books you get in hotels."

Santana ignores her. "Tell Puck…" she starts scribbling. "Sex…my place…Tuesday at nine."

She rips off the post-it and sticks it to my forehead.

I stare at her dumbly.

"Well?" she says. "What are you waiting for? Go!"

I turn around and screw up my face to keep from screaming.

KEEP YOUR COOL, BERRY! GODDAMMIT! DO YOU WANT TO TURN INTO BRITNEYY SPEARS?

I wouldn't mind taking an umbrella to Santana's car.

Just go find Noah.

I stomp down the hallway, my eyes peeled for a huge jerk with a lack of personal hygiene. He's at his locker cringing. I feel a sense of accomplishment. Just hearing the sound of my voice makes him quake with fear.

"I have a message from Santana," I say handing him the note. "It's of great importance. That's why she had me deliver it. I'm better than the Pony Express."

But he's not listening. He's looking at the note with a pained expression on his face.

"What?" I ask, quirking my eyebrow. "I thought you liked having sexual intercourse with Santana? You talk about it incessantly."

Puck glares at me. "I got to get in the mood first, Berry," he says. "It's not just a switch I can turn on and off."

"I'm sorry I don't understand the workings of your libido," I say graciously. "I'll try to be more considerate next time."

Puck crumples up the post-it and throws it in his locker. "Tell her I'll have to think about it."

I purse my lips. "I'm not your slave, Noah! You can tell Santana yourself."

"No way, man," he says, shaking his head. "She'll cry or hit me with her tampons or something!"

I start to walk away. "You're on your own, Noah. See you later."

"Berry –"

Noah grabs my shoulder and pulls my closer toward him. He's hunched over, in my face. My goddamn personal space.

"Can't you be…" he says. His breath smells like Listerine and school pizza. My nose crinkles instinctively. "more…I don't know. Girly or sweet? Nicer."

"Maybe when hell freezes over."

I realize people are staring at us. I step on Noah's foot with as much force as I can muster and stalk away.

The sexual tension between you two is palpable, Berry.

I swear to god I'm going to snap one day.

**AN: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up soon. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Not many reviews last chapter...but that's alright. Haha we write to freak one another out. ;D (Bad rep. tonight!...so excited!)  
**

**Disclaimer: No, we do not own Glee.  
**

_Puck POV_

The final bell of the day isn't even finished ringing, and I am up out of my seat already half way out the door. Thank fuck school is over. Seriously. The two whole months I get in between now and September are mine. (...and my mother's...but whatever)

I was just going to make a run for my car, and hopefully ditch Berry, when I hear Santana sneering my name from where she managed to sneak up behind me.

"Puck, why didn't you answer any of my sexts?" I turn towards her and notice the same steely glint she usually has when she berates me. "I was saying some seriously hot things."

I wanted to. Yeah, I'm a dude. And I totally want to have sex with her on Tuesday, she fucking rocks in the sack. But isn't she with Brittany? I mean I don't really do cheating anymore. The last time I was in that situation it kind of turned into shit-fest 5000...and there was a kid involved. Yeah, not so much fun. But hey, I'm totally down for a threesome. That would be insanely hot.

I just shake my head. "Wasn't feeling it." I turn away from her when she grabs my elbow.

"Wasn't feeling it?" Her glare kind of makes me fear for my cojones right now. (Ha! Spanish with Schue totally did pay off.) "Since when do you not _feel _like it?"

I just shrug my shoulders and start walking in the direction of the parking lot, keys already in hand.

"Noah, I need to stop at my locker first. I have to clear out all the materials I needed for this school year, and sort out what will be considered un-acceptable to simply have the janitors throw away." Berry? What the fuck? Where did she come from?

I glance to my left and notice that crazy is, in fact, walking in step with me.

"Whatever." I nod toward her and then follow her as she veers to the left and heads down the hallway. My mom would probably kill me if I left her at school anyways.

"I really do appreciate this though." She glances up at me and smiles. "Though you are still a chauvinistic pig." She is now standing in front of her locker twirling the dial.

Chav-a what? I need a fucking dictionary just talking to this chick.

"Noah, would you hold this for a moment?" Rachel gestures to the hair dryer she has in her hands. She had a hair dryer in her locker? What the hell?

I wordlessly grab the thing by its cord and ignore her pointed look. "Honestly Noah, you should really treat people's property with greater respect."

I roll my eyes at her. It's just a hair dryer, not the freaking end of the world.

"And this too please." She hands me a hair straightener.

What? The only things I ever had in my locker were my textbooks. And I never even took those out...

"Berry, what the hell? You got a blender in there too?" Yeah, lame joke. Whatever.

"No. I only have the essential beauty items one might need during a day of school." She reaches over to take the hair supplies and places them in her backpack which looks freakishly like a suitcase "Besides, it never hurts to be prepared." She grabs one last folder from her locker and shuts the door gingerly.

"Whatever." I start to walk away. "Let's go, I ain't got all day."

She zips up the bag and then follows in step with me. The halls are practically empty despite Berry only taking a couple minutes. Seems like everyone couldn't wait to get the hell out of here...

The silence as we walk out to the parking lot is creepy. I try to think of something...but I have no idea what would set her off on a tangent. I want her to talk, not rant.

"So you excited for summer?" Perfect topic. Who the hell isn't?

"Not really. I am going to be completely listless throughout the majority of it." From the saddened look on her face I actually believe what she says. "My vocal instructor is going on maternity leave, my dance teacher is taking an extended honeymoon, there are no theater productions happening in Lima, and to top it all off we aren't having any show choir rehearsals!" She throws her hands up in the air on her last point.

I just look at her like she's crazy, which she is. "Uh, isn't that a good thing then?" I hold open the door for her as we exit the school. "You don't gotta be stressed and stuff. You can just chill."

"Chill?!" Oops, wrong thing to say. Her voice seems to be inching towards something only dogs can hear. "Not one person who is on Broadway, at this very moment, got there by _chilling_."

Here we go...another rant. Oh, wait. No...why isn't she talking anymore? I glance over and notice a cloudy expression on her face. Huh?

_Rachel's POV_

I can feel it in my bones. With every step I take the reality sets in even more. This entire summer is leading me into a giant swirling vortex of anguish. My insides squeeze together like someone's running me through a juicer. Rachel Berry's Angst Juice. Now with 100% more depression.

Before I was in glee, I anticipated the last day of school. No more slushie facials, no more lewd drawings of me showing up in the girl's bathroom, no more Hitler mustaches drawn on my yearbook picture in the _Thunderclap_. Now I'm on the yellow brick road to super stardom. Fame is right there in my hand and summer has to steal it away. I should be used to this by now. I never win anything. Even if I do there's an underlying sense of guilt.

I see Finn in the parking lot and just about lose all of my self-respect. Noah is nudging me in the head with his elbow.

"You already got me carrying your stupid lady shit around," he says. "Can you hurry up?"

"I think I'm having a heart attack," I say, my eyes still staring at Finn. He's struggling to unlock his car with Quinn standing impatiently behind him. She's rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet and checking her watch.

"Do you…" Noah is at a loss. "Do you want me to call an ambulance or something? What do you do if someone is having a heart attack? CPR?"

I realize this is his way of telling jokes. I don't think it's funny. The only jokes I laugh at are about chickens.

I squint my eyes so I won't start crying in the middle of the McKinley parking lot next to a stupid boy carrying a hair dryer. It's not the sort of thing stars do. It's not the sort of thing I want on my _E! True Hollywood Story_.

"Just drive me home," I say, trying to take a deep breath. I keep watching Finn as Noah throws my things haphazardly in the backseat of his car. There's several vintage Playboys stashed under the seat and for a second I appreciate his sense of nostalgia. Then I remember that this is Lima and the only Playboys you can get are the old yellowing ones in your grandfather's basement.

Noah keeps looking at me as he drives. I feel like punching him in the face. One clean shot in the jaw.

He must know how I feel, with his alleged feelings for Quinn Fabray, etc. Except Finn is Finn and Quinn is Quinn. Finn is sweet and nice and the best future trophy husband a girl could ask for. My feelings for Finn are…are…

I don't know what I feel anymore. Maybe I should stop feeling. Because feeling gets in the way of important things like stardom, Tonys, chauffeurs, etc.

"Is this some kind of miracle?" Noah says. "Rachel Berry hasn't talked for more than five minutes. It must be a new record."

"I'm allowed to keep to myself, aren't I?" I ask, my anger flaring. "I have some rights."

"What's with you, Berry?" he asks. He has that annoying half-smile on his face like he knows more than he lets on.

_Punch him punch him punch him PUNCH HIM!_

"I mean, you're acting bitchier than usual."

"My bitchiness is quite balanced," I say. I hear my words and they're sharp like needles. "In fact, my bitchiness levels are just perfect."

Noah smirks. "Aw, Berry. You're the one who wanted glee rehearsals over summer, right?"

"Yes," I say, turning away so he won't see my red face. I'm so embarrassed I could cry. Or punch something. I press my fist against the window, but it doesn't break the glass. I don't want to get blood on my skirt or Noah's car seats. "I don't see how that concerns you."

"You're just a Fun-Sucker, aren't you?" Noah says.

"Wha-? No!" I retort. "I'm not a...a… 'Fun-Sucker'!"

"Why can't you let people just enjoy their summer?" he asks.

"I'm the most fun person I know!"

"You don't know how to have fun, Fun-Sucker."

"Fun is my specialty. It was imprinted on my DNA at birth. I am perfect at fun."

Noah gives me a look. "No one is perfect at fun, Fun-Sucker."

I cross my arms and stare out the window. Noah sniggers beside me.

_I hate him. I hate this. I have summer. I hate everybody. _

Finn's car pulls up next to ours. He notices me and waves. Quinn smacks him on the back of the head and playfully scolds him. I feel sick.

My window is suddenly rolling down, the humid June air lapping at my cheeks. Noah leans across my, his poor-attempt-at-a-beard stubble rubbing my nose like sandpaper. His cologne stings my nostrils.

"FINNN HUDDSOON," he shouts. "I challenge you to a drag race!"

Quinn glares at him. "Real mature, Puck."

"Alright," Finn says, not sounding very sure of himself. He never looked safe behind the wheel of a car. "Let's go."

"Noah," I say. "This is a bad idea."

"It'll be fine, Fun-Sucker," Noah says. "You just gotta _believe_."

"Believe that I won't crash through the windshield."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: So here is the drag race people. (We do NOT encourage any of you to partake in one...they are highly terrifying AND highly illegal...well here they are.) Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Glee is not ours.  
**

_Puck POV_

Drag races are the shit. Seriously. There is barely anything as cool as driving insanely fast and then hoping to all hell that you beat whatever sorry 'schmuck you were racing. Not that I did it that often...this would actually only be my second time driving in one.

"Alright, so start at the stop sign and then go to the end of the road?" Finn's head is sticking out of his beat-up station wagon's window as he questions which path we are going to take.

I nod. "Sure man. Stop right before the river."

Our 'course' is probably one of the only straight roads in Lima. There are barely any curves and all turns are on a yellow caution light basis, so there's no red. It's not even a quarter of a mile long and the road stops abruptly when you reach the edge of the old Lima canal, which causes a legit stop sign to prompt for either a left or right turn. There aren't any guard rails because they just aren't needed due to the fact that nobody ever goes that far down the road, and if they do it's only because they live in one of the two houses out there in no-where's-ville.

"Alright man. I'm ready." I nod to Finn who looks like he may pee himself out of excitement, pull away from where I was leaning over Rachel, and wink at her. She just rolls her eyes.

"Uh, Puck...wait dude." I glance back over towards the car stalling beside mine. Finn's body is pushing up against the cup holders, which separate the two front seats from one another. Quinn is standing outside of the car with the door open and only her head sticking inside Finn's pride and joy. Finn sounds like he may be pleading with her, but all I can see is Quinn shaking her head no.

"C'mon Finn! I ain't got all day." I notice Rachel visibly cringing at my word choice but, surprisingly, she says nothing. She seems to be absorbed in Finn and Quinn's conversation; well she is if the way she is staring at them is any indication...

"Aw, man." Finn rights himself in his seat and turns to face us, as his passenger door slams shut, the once head cheerleader visibly walking away, the bottom of her skirt swishing with every deliberately hard step. I think she is shaking her head, but I can't really tell. "Quinn's being such a party pooper."

"Hey Quinn," I shout out as I lean out over my own window because she is now walking in front of my 'stang, headed towards the sidewalk. "You gonna walk all the way home just cuz you don't wanna race?" (Quinn moved back in with her 'rents after the whole baby drama thing...)

She turns around and, as doing so, places a hand on her hip. "No Puck. I don't want to _die_." She gives us one last glare and then turns around again, continuing in the direction of the sidewalk.

"Noah...maybe she is right." Rachel is looking at me with what I can only describe as fear in her eyes.

"Aw, don't worry babe. The 'ole Puckerone has driving skills that would make Chuck Norris quiver." I grin at her.

Rachel's face now has a look that is crossed between confusion and annoyance. "I don't understand the reference..."

I lean towards Rachel's window and holler out to Finn, who is busy adjusting his hands on his steering wheel and grinning in anticipation. "Uh, dude. Are you seriously gonna make her walk all the way?"

Finn shakes his head. "Nah, the race'll take like five minutes. I'll just call her after_ I_ win and swing by to pick her up from wherever she is."

"Uh. Hey dickface," I scowl at my best friend. "What makes you so sure you're gonna win?"

Rachel pokes the side of my face. "Noah, if you insist on this abominable act, I ask that you please proceed. And soon, I promised my fathers I would make dinner for them tonight, and I would really like a chance to get started on it as soon as possible."

I just roll my eyes at her and then adjust my seat, moving it forward, so I can grip the steering wheel more intently.

I look over towards Rachel and notice she is pulling her seatbelt tighter across her shoulders; she is such a girl. I glance towards Finn and give him a thumbs up in return to the one he is shooting me.

"If you injure me, in any way, I will have my father's sue you before you even have a chance to blink."

I don't get a chance to answer Berry's threat because Finn was laying it on his horn, which is basically the universal symbol, in a drag race, to go. In a cow town like Lima, where there are barely any traffic lights, we have to improvise. I quickly honk back.

Rachel squeaks as my tires skid through the exit of the parking lot and start to head down the road, Finn almost dead in a tie with me. I right the wheel from where I had to turn it almost completely over in order to make the turn. We race past Quinn, who gives us the finger, as she continues walking. I let out a loud guffaw at her 'lady like' gesture.

I chance a quick look at Rachel and see that her knuckles are turning white from where she is gripping the armrests of the passenger seat freakishly hard. She seems to be muttering something under her breath, but I can't quite make out what it is. Plus, her eyes are squeezed shut so she can't even see the epicness of driving at fucking fast speeds. Everything looks like a complete blur, which is freaking cool.

"Hey Rach, relax." I don't look over to her though because I can't take my eyes off the road. "I got this."

_Rachel's POV_

I'm going to die. I'm going to die in a stupid drag race. I'm going to die side by side with Noah Puckerman under nonromantic circumstances. I'm going to die without losing my virginity. I'm going to die before I hit the big time.

I start muttering every prayer I know under my breath. Perhaps a higher power will understand that it's just not my time yet and will save me from an untimely death.

"Could you slow down a bit?" I ask over the roar of the car's engine.

Noah ignores me, instead whooping at the top of his lungs and pushing harder on the accelerator. My brain feels like it's seeping out of my ears. I shut my eyes tight and brace myself for an impact.

_I never told Finn how much I care about him. I never sang a duet with Barbara Streisand at the Grammys. I have accomplished nothing. _

"If we live through this," I shout. "I'm going to make you wish you were never born, Noah Puckerman!"

The canal is up ahead and I'm having flashbacks from the summer when my fathers convinced me to take swimming lessons. I thought it was going to be easy. All you had to do was flail your arms around long enough to stay afloat.

Except I was wrong.

I realized this when I was gurgling a mouthful of chlorinate pool water and crying so hard I couldn't see. I've been afraid of swimming ever since. So if Noah Puckerman kills me by reckless driving AND drowning, I will find him in the afterlife and give him a piece of my mind.

Beside me Noah looks like he's about to vomit all over the dashboard. He keeps pushing down on the brake, but the car won't listen.

"Shit," he says.

"That's all you can say?" I cry. "Noah Puckerman you are the epitome of immaturity! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you with my life! This is all that could have resulted from – "

The car's already in the canal before I can finish my sentence.

I'm slanted at an odd angle so that my cheek is pressed up against the window, which I closed during our joy ride due to the wind mussing my hair. Noah, on the other hand, is shouting every cuss word I've ever heard and some new ones I'm sure he invented.

"Alright," I say, assessing the situation. "We're not dead. This is going very well so far."

"My car is totaled," Noah groans. "And you think this is going _well_?"

I can see Finn standing on the bank of canal looking horrified. He's squirming around in the most adorable way. Like a frightened puppy.

I knock politely on the window and gesture for him to call for help.

Noah is banging his head on the steering wheel like a raging psychopath. I'm beginning to feel nervous about being alone with him while he is in this condition. It was silly of me to think I was safe from death. Noah looks like one of those men on _Law and Order_ who kill beautiful women in their prime. I start to fear for my life again.

"Now let's take some deep yoga breaths," I say, inhaling as an example. "And maybe afterward we can get you a cup of tea and talk about this."

"Get out of the car, Berry."

"I'm afraid we're stuck until a tow truck arrives," I say. "Because if I were to get out of the car right now I would be… in the water."

Noah looks at me lividly. "Yeah, so?"

I squirm in my seat. "Water makes me… uncomfortable."

"I. Don't. Care."

If Noah wasn't such a self-proclaimed "badass" I'm sure this is the part where he would break down into tears and explain how the car was a metaphor for his father or something else dramatic. Instead, _I _start crying because this whole situation is making me angry. And when I'm angry I usually sing, but if I start singing Noah will kill me with a 'new car' scented air freshener. So I'm crying, but I swear it's an accident. I try to tell Noah that but the words come out all gargled.

"The hell are you blubbering for?" Noah sighs.

"I hate you, Noah Puckerman," I manage. "You…you…you suck!"

Noah stares at me incredulously.

"If I knew how to swim properly I would walk out of this car right now!"

Noah bursts into laughter which makes me cry even more. "You don't know how to swim, Berry? Christ."

I sniff indignantly. "About 36% of people in the United States can't swim. I just happen to be in that percentile."

Noah laughs more and I feel embarrassed. Thankfully the tow truck arrives before I can do anything else stupid.

**AN: Thanks for reading! Drop a review and let us know what you think! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I know this is a week overdue but, who freaking loved Bad Reputation!? ...Soo amazing, right? :) Anyway, Glee is all new tonight...HURRAH! Also, we just wanted to thank everyone for the really great reviews, story alerts, and hits. You are all wonderful.**

**Without further ado, the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. We own nothing.  
**

_Puck POV_

I am sitting in the passenger seat of Finn's crappy station wagon, with my arms crossed over my chest, doing what Rachel refers to as 'sulking.' Badasses don't sulk. We _mourn_. There's a difference, which I told her.

"Noah, this is completely your fault, so I don't understand why you cannot 'man-up' as you like to say." Rachel is huddled in the backseat with the blanket Finns keeps in his trunk around her. The bitch forced me to give her a piggyback ride out of the canal because she didn't want to get wet. The only reason I did it was because she wouldn't shut up about how she was going to 'sue me.'

"God Berry." I push my hands through my Mohawk less hair, man I miss that thing. Stupidest decision ever to shave it off. "Just shut up."

Rachel makes a 'huffing' noise and then turns her body almost completely facing the window. Finn has been pretty much silent through out this whole thing. The only time he talked was when he said "Sucks man." as the tow truck hoisted my car out of the damn water, and when he called Quinn to ask her where she was.

Which is where we are heading towards, right now. Thankfully Finn didn't tell her what happened, which I actually am grateful for. Quinn can be such a bitch sometimes, especially when _thinks_ she is right.

"Stop the car Finn." Rachel is pointing towards a person sitting on a bench in front of the Lima Public Library. "She's right over there."

When Quinn sees the car, she gets up and starts heading towards the front seat. She frowns though when she sees me sitting there. Instead she silently opens the back door, slides in, and gives Rachel's current appearance a curious glance. The two girls aren't exactly enemies, but they aren't exactly friends either due to the whole Rachel likes Finn but he took Quinn back after the whole baby thing...blah blah blah.

Finn starts driving off again, this time in the direction of Rachel's house.

Quinn buckles her seat belt and looks towards me with a knowing glance on her face. "Totaled your car huh?" The smirk she has is so arrogant I wish I could punch her...but she's a girl... "Crash it into a tree?"

I mutter a "No."

Rachel, however, feels the need to elaborate on my one word answer. "He actually drove his car into the Lima canal."

Quinn starts to laugh as I whip my head back and glare at Berry. "Shut up!" I hiss.

Apparently that won't deter her though. "Yes, I believe he lost control of the breaks." Rachel quicks a glance at me and then continues, "Noah's car is not _totaled_ though. Or at least that is what the tow truck driver from Lou's garage said, though he did say that the car looked _a doozy_."

I appreciate her effort, I really do. But she is not helping my case. At all.

Quinn, on the other hand, looks like she has won the lottery. "I told you that drag races were stupid." She points a finger towards Finn. "Thank goodness you weren't hurt Finn. I would never forgive myself if-"

"Aw, shut it _Saint_ Fabray." I glare at her. Quinn seemed to have adopted this 'holier-than-thou' attitude during AND after her pregnancy. It completely sucks.

"Not my fault you're stupid Puck." Quinn is poking me on the back of the head.

Finn decides now is the moment to break his silence. "Aw, Quinn it's not his fault."

I smile at my friend.

"Though, this was his idea so..."

The smile is now gone. "Hey man, you went along with it!"

Finn breaks at a stop sign and looks over towards me. "Yeah, but only because you were really excited."

What. A. Liar. "Don't give me that shit." I glare over at him. "You were practically _peeing your pants, _you were so excited."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Rachel nodding her head. "Yes, Noah is right. If I had to choose which, of the two of you, was the most appreciative of the idea, I would say it was Finn."

Ha. "See Finn." I poke him in the arm. "Even Berry says so." I smile appreciatively back at her.

_Rachel's POV_

I'm in a depression.

It's been a few weeks since the accident in the canal. At first I saw it as a sign. Like someone was telling me to enjoy life or I would get hit by a bus or something else equally unappealing. When I returned home that day I was all ready to have as much summer fun as I could get.

Maybe my fathers and I could go to see the community theater production of _Hair_. They share the same passion for amateur theater as I do, so maybe we could have an intelligent discussion afterward.

Except what I came home to was an empty house and I ended up gorging myself on left over peach pie and chocolate milk. It was all very sad. I would like to erase it from my memory, but sadly, there isn't a way you can give yourself amnesia without smashing your head against a rock.

So I've spent the past week laying in bed watching _Funny Girl_ on repeat. I can practically recite it from memory.

My Dads are worried about me becoming a shut-in/cat lady for the rest of my existence, so they call Noah. Something about the fact that he is a the 'nice boy from temple' who can fix anything?... That's what they resort to every time a problem arises. Call Noah. The dishwasher's broken? Call Noah. There's a snake in the garage? Call Noah. How do you boil an egg again? Easy. Just call Noah.

Our daughter is stuck in a shame spiral and will not be returning for maybe centuries. Get Noah over here as fast as you possibly can.

So Noah's at the door and I'm in bunny slippers and this whole thing feels like a dream. Not a pleasant dream either. One of those bad ones where you keep falling off a cliff over and over and over…

"Why are _you_ here?" I ask, exasperated.

"Your Dads were shitting their pants when they called me," Noah says. "They think you're gonna off yourself."

"What?"

"Suicide."

I must look like I'm going to start crying because Noah gets this sullen expression on his face. I've noticed that he's not well adept at dealing with other people's emotions. In all the moves I've seen, when the female lead starts crying the male lead will hug her or say something reassuring. Noah Puckerman would sooner "off himself" than hug me.

"Get out of those retarded slippers," Noah orders. "We're going to get food or whatever."

"I don't think I want to," I say. "I think it would be best if I remain in bed until the summer is finished. Thank you for thinking of me, Noah, but I'll decline your offer for 'food or whatever'."

I would close the door, but Noah's giant foot is making it a bit hard. He's breathing through his nose now. My extensive knowledge of body language tells me that Noah is mad and will most likely punch me in the nose.

"Don't get the idea that I'm 'thinking of you'," Noah says using air quotes. "Seriously, Berry. What kind of badass cares about people's feelings?"

"I don't know…" I roll my eyes. "What kind?"

Noah yanks me by the arm and pulls me out into the sunlight. I blink a few times to let my eyes adjust. I haven't been outdoors since the accident... besides going out to buy groceries. Depression, and lack of activities to partake in can do that to a person. Noah doesn't give me enough time to admire the view though. He's dragging me to a bicycle parked on the sidewalk. I'm still in my pajamas.

"Is this what you've resorted to?" I ask, crossing my arms across my chest. "I don't think I've ever seen a badass ride a bicycle."

"Shut the fuck up Berry. Just get on the damn bike," Noah snaps.

"It only fits one person," I point out.

"Ride on the handlebars! Christ, Berry! Right now you're rivaling Brittany for Queen of the Dumbasses."

I frown. "I don't think that's legal, Noah. You're not even wearing a helmet. What if you somehow fall off your bicycle and crack your head open? I don't want to visit a hospital in my pajamas, Noah."

"Listen, Berry." Noah is trying to be patient with me. I can tell. "You better get on this goddamn bike before I gouge your eyes out with a melon baller."

Alright. I'm not in any way affected by Noah's violent threats. He can go on all day about nun-chucks and throwing stars, and I'll pretend to listen to be polite. We have a dynamic going on. It's been like this since he threatened to kill me in my sleep on the first day of kindergarten.

I situate myself on Noah's handlebars just like he told me to. As he takes me to get the "food or whatever" I watch out for police cars. It would be very unfortunate if Noah and I were to be caught riding a bike without helmets and thrown in jail. Surely, Anderson Cooper will find out about this and use it against me when I'm famous. If all the kids in glee dislike me, imagine what the press will be like.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I'm just doing this for your Dads, okay?" Noah shouts in my ear. "It has nothing to do with you."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"I can't pay attention with you yapping."

"I'm not even talking that much, Noah. But if you really want me to start a conversation then I will. Could you perhaps turn around and bring me back to my house so I could change? Because I'm still in my slippers which is almost as embarrassing for me as it is for you. Plus they're not very good at supporting me on these handlebars. It'll only take a few minutes, I promise."

Noah stops pedaling. Was he really taking my feelings into account? I eagerly await his apology for barging in on me and, if you really think about it, kidnapping me. He'll let me change my shoes at least.

No. It's just his cell-phone.

"Dammit," he sighs. "Santana is bugging me again."

"Just tell her to 'get the hell away from me' or whatever you say to make girls leave you alone," I suggest.

"That makes them want me even more," Noah explains. "Maybe I'll just send her a picture of my -"

"Please don't be vulgar today," I sigh. "I'm in a good mood."

"Should I just pop in for a quickie?" Noah is involved in his own little world now. A world which I wouldn't touch with a ten feet pole.

"I don't know why you're asking me for advice."

"That's right. You're a virgin."

I flush. "That's completely inappropriate, Noah Puckerman."

"So not only are you a Fun-Sucker," he smirks. "You're a virgin."

Just when I think he's growing a heart he say something stupid.

Noah continues laughing at my bewildered face until he doubles over due to his guffaws and starts to gasp for air. I turn on my heel and say, "Well if you're going to be that way, I'm canceling our date for 'food or whatever'."

This shuts him up. "It wasn't – what the hell are you talking about? Date?"

I climb onto Noah's bike and begin pedaling away toward my house. I don't even bother to turn around as I shout, "I'm commandeering your bicycle for a while, Noah. I'll return it to you in peak condition."

**AN: Thanks for reading! Drop us a line, and tell us what 'ya think. :D **


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